


You'll Love Me At Once, The Way You Did Once

by doieology



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood, Choking, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mild Language, Not much fluff but it's there, Reincarnation, Sacrilegious use of holy water, Soulmates, Suspense, Vampire Qian Kun, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doieology/pseuds/doieology
Summary: Lost and running for his life, Ten finds Kun—or rather Kun finds him, and suddenly the line between his feelings and old memories begin to blur. Ten gets the feeling he's been here before, but he can't place why.orTen is being hunted down by a vampire in an old manor, and Kun is curiously nice to him.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 18
Kudos: 123





	1. I've been wandering endlessly without you

_ Come back  _

-

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ !” Ten panted as he ran through the hallways. Footsteps behind him echoed loudly against the stone walls of the corridor. 

Victorian lamps dimly lit the halls, casting everything within in a yellow light, and the long stretches between the lamps were dark with shadows. Ten could barely see the ends of the corridors.  He wasn’t sure where he was going, only that he’d be dead if he was caught. 

His legs carried themselves, through the halls, to the left, then the right, and the left again. Adrenaline auto piloted his body. 

The manor was quite literally enormous, and completely foreign to Ten. The long corridors were identical — Ten easily could have passed through the same one twice without knowing. 

When he had first seen the manor, he came to the conclusion that Johnny was just loaded. In his lust-filled haze, however, he was oblivious to the oddity of it. The manor was miles away from the city, at the end of a long winding road which passed through the wooded valley that sat between the large hills of the countryside. The seclusion alone should have been the first of many red flags for Ten, but he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

The manor was huge, three stories high at least with cone-roofed turrets at the sides. The exterior was made of dark stone, and had an almost medieval look with gothic windows covering the walls. It sat at the edge of a forest, and the thick woods covered a portion of the sides of the building from view. 

In Ten’s defense, he had little time to observe with Johnny’s hand wrapped around his, guiding him inside. Hands on his waist and lips on his neck was all he remembered from the route up to Johnny’s room, and now as Ten passed through another hallway that looked exactly like the last, he cursed himself for not having paid closer attention to the way they came. 

Ten flew to a stop when he reached an intersection between hallways, his lungs burning and his legs aching.

He held his hand to the juncture of his neck where blood still seeped out of broken skin, wincing in pain. His right hand was bleeding too, cuts lacing the underside of his fingers. Everything stung. Ten’s chest heaved. 

The footsteps had not faltered. Ten shot his head back and forth, looking for any place he could hide, but all that he saw was more halls and doors in each direction. 

Before he could make another move, a hissing sound rang throughout the corridor, and the footsteps behind him came to a halt. Ten could feel it reverberate through the manor, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. 

Suddenly the lights flickered off, casting Ten and the rest of the halls in complete darkness. He jerked backward, swallowing a cry of pain as the wound on his shoulder seared with the movement. He spun around to peer into the darkness, his entire body trembling. 

The hissing faded out, until all that was left was Ten standing in the dark, the entire manor silent. 

Then the footsteps started again, this time so loud Ten was sure the man was just at the end of the hallway. He was frozen for a moment, his heart beat once, twice, and then he was sprinting in the opposite direction. 

A set of larger doors sat just at the end of the hall, Ten had seen them before the lights went out. If he was lucky, it could be an exit. There was nowhere else to run, anyway. 

Ten outstretched an arm when he felt he was nearing the doors, his other still gripping his bleeding neck. 

His hand finally reached the doors, and he fumbled around frantically until he felt the door knob, holding his breath as he pulled it open.

Behind the door was only more darkness, but nonetheless Ten slipped inside, closing the doors as swiftly as he could, relief flooding through him in waves when he felt a lock on the door, which he quickly twisted shut. He wasn’t certain how long it would actually keep Johnny out for, but anything to delay him, and give Ten more time, was enough. 

Across the room there must have been a window, a bit of moonlight peeking out behind curtains. He crossed the room slowly, careful to not run into objects hidden by the darkness. 

With a shaky hand he pulled the curtain back. Though it was still late into the night, the moon-lit sky was far brighter than inside the manor. Ten’s heart dropped as he peered out the window, coming to the realization that he was three stories up, and all that was visible were the treetops of the thick woods in every direction. Even if he survived the fall, he couldn’t be sure he would find his way out of the forest. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing. 

_ So the window wasn’t an option, fine. _

Ten pulled open the curtain completely, casting the room in a blue light. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see the layout of the room, which surprised Ten with its size.  On the right of the window there was a large mantle and fireplace, and in front of it a long couch placed in the center of the room. The ceiling was high, a beautiful chandelier hanging from above. On the other side of the room there were two separate doors, and on the wall closest to him, a set of doors larger than the rest. 

Ten sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, scanning the room for anything he could use against Johnny. He couldn’t stop the small groan that slipped past his lips, there wasn’t anything here Ten could even pick up. 

Suddenly Ten could hear footsteps again, just outside the door. He froze.

The door knobs started to turn, and Ten’s mouth went dry. 

_ He was trying to get in. _

Frantically Ten scanned the room again, his heart racing in his chest. He glanced at the doors again. The shaking of the doorknob got louder.

Ten held his breath and ran to the pair of doors, slipping inside. 

He was pleased to find a lock on this door as well, twisting it shut. Open windows luckily allowed for outside light to illuminate the room. 

It was a bedroom, most likely a master bedroom based on the sheer size alone. There was a large bed with an overhang, two windows on either side, a victorian-style dresser on the opposite wall, and a desk in the corner with a few books and papers stacked on it. However, it was the door in the opposite corner in which Ten found what he needed. 

  
  


He ran towards the closet, pulling it shut behind him. It was quite a large closet, probably ten feet in length and four feet of width between the racks of clothes. He grabbed a shirt off one of the racks at random. 

He used his teeth to tear off the sleeve of the shirt, wrapped it tightly around his bloody hand, and tied it. He held the rest of the shirt to his neck, teeth clenching in pain at the contact. 

Ten slumped down onto the ground, his legs practically giving out underneath him. He sat as far back in the closet as he could, knees pressed to his chest. 

Sweat dripped off his forehead. His chest heaved. There wasn’t a lock on the closet door, but what more could he do? 

His neck stung badly, no better than it was an hour ago. 

Unconsciously, he kept glancing at the doorknob of the closet. Every little sound had him flinching, every creak of the manor’s old wood, each groan of old water pipes somewhere far off in the manor. 

A particularly large gust of wind blew so fiercely that the shutters of the window were pulled forward and slammed back against the walls of the manor. The loud noise made Ten jump, and in the process he accidentally pressed down onto his neck, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth flying open in a silent cry of pain. 

All of the sudden Ten felt like sobbing. The past hour and a half Ten had been through hell, and his stomach still lurched with the uncertainty he would make it out of this. 

At the time it hadn’t felt strange at all how quickly Johnny offered to leave the club and drive to his place, it didn’t raise a single suspicion in Ten that Johnny lived so far away from the city, nor did Ten think twice about Johnny’s home being quite literally straight out of the nineteenth century.

Ten allowed himself to cry. 

Looking back, it makes Ten sick how quickly he let his guard down.  He was smarter than that, he knew better than that. But at the time, and even admittedly now, none of it felt odd or out of place, no more matter how much thought Ten put into it. He didn’t let himself dwell on it for too long, he had more urgent issues.

Johnny had had him pinned against the wall in one of the many bedrooms of the manor, when Ten felt as though the grip on his waist had grown a little too tight. Ten broke the kiss to find Johnny’s eyes were now rimmed with a crimson red, his gaze strangely fixated on his neck. 

Ten stilled, “Johnny?”

The other ran his tongue across his teeth, and looked back up at Ten, “You’re very pretty, Ten.” 

He rasped it out, something sinister laced in his voice. It didn’t feel like a compliment, more like the way a wolf might admire a rabbit. 

Ten moved to push Johnny’s hands off him, but the other’s grip only tightened with his movements. Panic rose in Ten’s chest, and he flung his knee up, kneeing Johnny in the stomach. 

The taller stumbled back with a grunt, allowing Ten to slip out of his hands and make a run for it. 

He barely got within four feet of the door before Johnny grabbed his leg and pulled, sending Ten crashing to the floor. 

Johnny dragged Ten towards him, flipping him over onto his back. He crawled over Ten, pinned his wrists above his head. 

  
“Get off me!” Ten yelled, writhing under Johnny. 

Johnny wasn’t paying any mind to his shouting, instead he used his free hand to grab onto Ten’s shirt and pull it forcefully down over his shoulder. 

It was then that Ten noticed the sharp fangs hanging out of Johnny’s mouth, his eyes widening in horror. 

“No! Stop it!” Ten screamed, “Get off — ”

Ten was cut off as Johnny leaned down, attaching his mouth onto the juncture of Ten’s neck, and biting down. 

Ten cried out as Johnny’s teeth sunk deeper into his skin, feeling as though he was being cut open where Johnny was biting him. When Johnny started sucking in mouthfuls of his blood, Ten felt like fire was running through his veins, his limbs going numb. 

Johnny let go of his wrists, though Ten could barely move his arms. 

Whimpers and sobs were continuously drawn from Ten, tears rolling down his cheeks as he weakly pushed at Johnny. He was babbling strings of  _ stop _ , and  _ please _ . 

Johnny unsheathed his teeth for a moment to lap at the blood pooling on Ten’s neck with his tongue, and Ten gasped for air, now that the burning sensation had waned. 

Warily, he looked around the room, noticing a vase atop the nightstand near them. He reached out, grabbing onto the leg of the nightstand and tried to pull it closer to them. 

Right then Johnny bit back into him, and Ten bawled, his other hand shooting up to grip loosely at Johnny’s hair. 

He pulled at the nightstand again, scooting it forward, then quickly backwards again. The vase started to rock. With a grunt he pulled it forward again, and the vase toppled over, falling off of the nightstand and shattering on the ground. 

Ten supposes he was lucky that Johnny was too bloodthirsty to move away from Ten’s neck and stop him. 

Ten felt around until he grabbed a particularly long and sharp shard, ignoring the way it cut into his skin. He raised the shard, and using the last of his strength dug it into Johnny’s arm, plunging it as deep as he could. 

Johnny tore himself off of Ten, grabbing his arm in pain. His mouth was covered in Ten’s blood. 

Ten kicked Johnny in the chest, hard enough to send him toppling backwards. Ten scrambled to his feet, flinging the door open and running out. 

The dizziness was overwhelming, sending him crashing into the wall of the hallway. His vision was going in and out of focus, his limbs jelly. 

The sound of Johnny groaning behind him was enough motivation for Ten to push himself up again, fight through the light-headedness, and sprint down the hall. 

Now Ten sat in the darkness of the closet, wondering how long it would be until Johnny would find him again. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his clean hand, but the tears wouldn’t stop, dripping off his jaw and chin and onto his knees. 

_ Maybe this was Johnny’s  _ actual _ room _ , Ten thought. He stared at the cloth wrapped around his hand, red stained into it. He hopes it was Johnny’s favorite shirt. 

All of the sudden footsteps could be heard approaching the closet door, Ten’s heart skipping a beat. His body froze completely as the footsteps came to a stop in front of the closet door. 

_ How could he have gotten in so quietly? _ His breath grew ragged.

The doorknobs began to turn, and Ten swallowed a cry. Tears filled his eyes again. He pulled his knees in, bracing himself. There was no getting out of this one. 

The door swung open, the wall lamp flickered on. It wasn’t Johnny, but a different man. 

This man was shorter than Johnny, with blond hair and rounder, friendlier features. He was wearing a dark red fitted blazer, with a blouse underneath. 

Ten could only stare. 

The man was studying Ten, an unreadable expression on his face. Everything in his vision seemed to blur out of focus except for the man in front of him. 

He took a step forward, but Ten pushed himself back further against the clothes, “Stay away.” he rasped. 

The man actually halted, to Ten’s surprise. But then his gaze fell to the cloth held to Ten’s shoulder, a small frown gracing his lips, and he strode forward. 

Ten cowered away, pulling his knees tighter against himself. 

He kneeled in front of Ten, staring into Ten’s eyes for a time-slowing, heart stopping second, before reaching over to grab the cloth on Ten’s neck. 

Ten flinched away from the movement, his eyes trained on the man. 

The man didn’t stop, but he moved much slower, “What do I call you, dear?”

His voice was smooth and soft in a way that Ten didn’t mind hearing again. Ten quickly pushed that thought to the back of his head. 

The man grabbed onto the cloth, carefully pulling it off of Ten’s shoulder, going slower when it stuck because of the dried blood. 

“What..what are you doing?” Ten breathed shakily. 

The man glanced up at Ten before focusing back on his neck. He folded the shirt, and with a clean side of the fabric, he wiped up some of the blood that had collected on his collarbones. “I questioned a name, dear.”

Ten swallowed, “T-ten.” He winced every time the man touched the fabric to his skin.

“Ten,” the man repeated, his voice low and quiet, “Ten.” 

His eyebrows furrowed as he studied the violent bite mark decorating his shoulder, “Well, Ten, someone must be looking for you, no?”

The man rested his hand on Ten’s shoulder, dragging his thumb to lightly pull Ten’s skin so he could better see the bite. 

It stung. Ten sucked in a breath. 

“Johnny.” He uttered out, skin breaking out into goosebumps where the man was touching him. 

“I suppose I should apologize for the trouble he has caused you,” the man sighed, setting the dirtied shirt on the floor and grabbing another soft shirt off the rack behind Ten, “antagonization isn’t something we do here.”

Ten could only let out a shaky breath at that. 

“Though, Johnny’s never been very...neat.” The man tsked. He dragged the shirt down to clean up blood that had dripped from his shoulder, pushing the bunched up cloth gently below the collar of Ten’s shirt. 

Ten’s head spun, his heart jumping at the touch.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” Ten asked, his voice cracking.

The man folded the shirt, chuckling softly, “You’re very blunt, Ten.”

As the man looked at him again, his eyes gleamed with something Ten couldn’t place. Ten began to tremble.

“I’m not going to kill you.” He gently pressed the clean shirt to Ten’s shoulder. Sharp needles of pain jabbed at the juncture of Ten’s neck. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his teeth clenching.

The man moved his hand away, letting Ten replace it with his own. That’s when the man noticed Ten’s wrapped hand as well, and he raised an eyebrow, “You put up quite the fight it looks like, hm dear?”

He wasn’t brooding like Johnny was, but he spoke the same way, elegantly, carefully. 

“But you’re like Johnny?” Ten looked at the other warily.

The man sat back slightly, eyeing Ten, “In some ways, yes.”

“You’re going to let Johnny kill me.” Ten glared at the man in front of him. He decided it subconsciously, the words spilling out before he could process them, let alone catch them. It was accusatory, Ten was aware of that, and though somewhere in the back of his mind sat the thought that maybe he shouldn’t chide the man who probably holds his fate in his hands, his anger at the cruelty of everything that’s happened to him that night overrode it. 

Ten’s vision blurred with unshed tears. 

The man reached out with his hand slowly, holding Ten’s jaw delicately. This time Ten didn’t flinch away. 

“I’ll do as I please.” He murmured.

Hot tears began cascading down Ten’s face once again. The man followed them as they fell. There was that unreadable expression on his face again. 

“For now, come with me. I’ll clean you up a bit, hm?” He drew back his hand from Ten’s face, and instead held it out for Ten to take. 

Ten glanced at the outstretched hand, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Who are you?” He whispered.

The man smiled sadly, “You can call me Kun.”

-

_ Come back to me _

-

Ten wasn’t sure what it was exactly that managed to keep him so at bay around Kun. Adrenaline, shock, maybe both, maybe something else entirely. Maybe the exhaustion was finally setting in and he was just too tired to stay on his toes.

Whatever it was, the bath was nice. 

The bathroom was large, with a big bathtub on one side placed in front of two large windows. Kun, Ten had gathered, could see in the dark, but he still had the lamps flickered on in each room they entered. 

Ten was pretty sure that under any other circumstance, he would have never, ever, let a stranger bathe him. But, Ten was stuck inside a manor with blood-sucking men, and Kun was really, really nice. 

Kun held Ten’s head up with his hand, scooping up handfuls of water and pouring it on Ten’s hair. He threaded his fingers through the black locks, massaging Ten’s scalp. 

The sun hadn’t risen yet, but Ten could see the black of the night sky just barely fade into a deep blue at the horizon. Out here, far from the city, the stars were much more visible and beautiful against the large dark hills of the countryside. 

The gentleness of Kun’s touch made Ten’s eyelids heavy, and he suddenly remembered how long it’d been since he’d last slept. 

Ten decided that if this was the last moment of peace he got before he’d be hunted down like an animal, then so be it. 

The windows overlooked the backyard of the manor, which Ten hadn’t known was even there. There was a large garden in the middle, and though the darkness of the night made it hard to see, Ten could just make out the rows of well-kept bushes and flowers. There were pathways throughout the garden, and stone arches covered in flowering vines. Ten wished he could see it in the daylight. His heart ached. 

Kun poured water onto the bite, drawing a hiss from Ten. 

He whispered an apology. 

“Do you garden often?” He looked up at Kun. 

The other man smiled softly and nodded, “The garden is my favorite thing about the manor. I could spend all day there.”

“What, you don’t burn in the sunlight?” Ten replied. It was a joke, but Ten couldn’t find the energy to say it in a way that implied that. Kun understood, though, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t, actually. Although the daylight, or really any light, strains our eyes, I’ve taught myself to grow used to it. And the garden is lovely during the day,” practiced hands kneaded down his neck carefully, “especially just after dawn, when the sky is still orange, and the garden is covered in dew that sparkles under it.” 

He spoke quietly towards the end, his voice almost wistful. 

“And the sunlight shines through the trees of the forest and chases away the last of the lingering morning fog.”

A picture flashed in his mind, a detailed image so vivid Ten could mistake it for a memory. Everything Kun had described was there, the flowers, the sun, the trees, even the dew. Ten could almost feel it underneath his fingertips, cold on soft flower petals. 

A shiver traveled down Ten’s spine, the image fading from his mind, and his heart ached. 

“It’s gorgeous.” Ten murmured, looking out the window again. He longed to see it for himself. 

“Someone once loved it more than I did.” Kun’s hands stilled for a moment, and Ten turned to see the man gazing out at the garden, “but they left for a while, so I’ve been keeping it for the time being.”

Ten peered at him curiously.

Kun met his eyes again, and ran his thumb gently along Ten’s jaw. “Let’s get you dry, hm?”

-

_ Come back to me, my love. _

_ - _

Ten came to the conclusion that Kun was simply a serene person, and kind-natured at heart. 

Even if he  _ probably _ fed off people’s blood. That was something Ten was frightened to admit he could look past when it came to Kun. 

Either way, Kun was good at making Ten feel like he wasn’t being hunted down in that very manor, and that was a feeling Ten couldn’t stop himself from clinging to. 

The room Kun had prepared for him was nice, generously spacious for someone who was currently valued no more than a meal. 

There was a queen sized bed with an overhang to the left, a dresser just across from it, and even a small fireplace to the right of the bed. A large persian rug was laid out over the old hardwood floors of the room. The walls were a deep brown, the bedsheets a dark red, as well as the rug. The colors made the room feel warm. 

“Is it to your tastes, my dear?” Kun asked from behind him, holding Ten’s newly washed clothes in one arm, closing the doors with the other. 

“It’s a little...outdated.” Ten twitted as he wandered around the room, taking in every detail.

Kun laughed, his dimples showing, “I’m afraid I can’t do much about that, my dear.” 

Ten decided he liked Kun the best when he was smiling like that, genuine. 

“Have you ever thought of renovating?” Ten asked, gaze fixated on the wood bookshelf situated on the far right wall of the room. It was a beautiful room, truly, but Ten allowed himself to entertain the idea of Kun in a modern setting. 

He can’t imagine what the other would look like in his apartment back in the city. Kun himself looked like he came straight out of the nineteenth century. It worked for him, though. Ten wouldn’t have it any other way. 

_ Did he even own a telephone? _ Ten’s lips curved into a smile at the thought. 

Kun shook his head, “Never. It’s been some time since I have even changed the furniture around here.”

“I can see that,” Ten commented, grazing his fingers across the smooth wood of the chair situated in the corner, “How old is it, anyway? The manor?”

“It was built in the early 1800s,” he said, his eyes scanning the room himself, “but no rooms have been refurbished since the 1830s.”

Ten stopped, “You’re two hundred years old?”

“No,” Kun’s stare was fixated on the floor now, “I’m far older than that.”

Ten turned to look at him curiously. Kun gazed back. 

“Don’t change anything. Keep it like this.” Ten nodded to the room as he made his way towards the bed. 

“I thought you said it was outdated.” Kun followed Ten with his eyes.

“Maybe it is.” Ten shrugged, “but it’s nice this way. It suits you.”

Ten lied down against the thick throw pillows on top of the bed, watching Kun as he set Ten’s old clothes onto his nightstand. The new clothes Kun had given him were certainly light, only a loose white tank top and white gym shorts. 

(“I wouldn’t want you getting too warm while you sleep.”

Ten scoffed, _ as if he’d be getting sleep _ . He took the clothes anyway.)

Kun sat next to him on the bed, “How is your hand, my dear?”

Ten looked down at the fresh bandage wrapped around his hand, “It’s good. The cuts are shallow, so it doesn’t hurt much anymore.”

Kun hummed. He didn’t ask about the neck.

Ten brought his hand up to touch the bandage on his shoulder, and he grimaced as he felt the blood already collecting underneath it, “Will it ever stop bleeding? Or at least..slow down?”

Kun shook his head, “I’m afraid not, my dear. It’s called  _ venenum ostium.  _ Our fangs secrete it when we bite into someone. As long as it’s in the blood, it prevents the bite wounds from healing.”

Ten sighed, letting his hand fall to his side, mumbled, “You know what? I’m gonna kick Johnny’s ass for this.”

Kun smiled softly again, “I know you will, my dear. I know you will.”

“But I can’t take it out?” Ten insisted, “The venom?”

Kun pursed his lips, “Either Johnny would have to suck the venom out himself, or you would have to bleed it out completely. But it’s dangerous. Even if you do manage to bleed it out, it could still linger on the bite.”

Ten felt a lump form in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut, “There’s nothing I can do?”

There was a pause. Ten could feel Kun shifting himself slightly on the bed.

“You’re clever, Ten,” the statement was forbidding, “You just have to remember it.”

Ten didn’t respond, and instead he let his words echo in his head. He peered at Kun, studying the curve of his cheeks, the strands of blond hair that fell across his forehead, the small mole that sat just below his eyebrow. It was almost as if he was trying to discern just what about Kun made his presence so soothing, or trying to locate the origin of a tranquility that seemingly appeared out of nowhere when Kun had found him in that closet.

“Is it because I’m with you?” Ten questioned, “That he hasn’t come back for me yet?”

“Johnny hasn’t returned yet because I haven’t allowed him to.” Kun had this tendency to look Ten deep in the eyes as he spoke to him, something Ten would have found unnerving with anyone else, but Kun made it feel comforting in the sense that Ten was under his gaze, his watch. 

“He listens to you?”

Kun hummed, “In order for him to take shelter here, he must. I’m his sire.” 

“ _ Sire? _ ” There was a lilt to Ten’s voice, and his lips curved into a grin, “Like...like the vampire landlord?” 

Kun raised an eyebrow, “ _ What? _ ”

“The emperor vampire. Vampire in chief.  _ The _ vampire, you know what I mean? CEV, if you will.” 

“CEV?” 

“As in chief executive vampire.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

Ten couldn’t contain his laughter at the combination of genuine confusion and annoyance on Kun’s face.

Kun rolled his eyes playfully, “Sorry you find the term  _ sire _ so amusing, but your quarrel isn’t with me, I didn’t come up with the system.” 

“No, no,” Ten raised one of his hands to hide his smile behind, “I’m not making fun of you.”

Kun eyed him, a smile gracing his lips as well, “I can still  _ see _ you laughing, your hand isn’t hiding anything.”

A comfortable silence settled over them, Kun’s rubbing his thumb lightly where his hand rested on Ten’s ankle.

Ten yawned, tiredness catching up with him again. Kun must have taken that as a cue to leave, but the second he made the move to stand, Ten shot up and grabbed his wrist. 

“Wait, Kun,” he started, “I don’t...I don’t want you to go.”

Kun allowed Ten to slip his hand into his own. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

He kneeled in front of Ten, and brought their conjoined hands to rest on his knee, “I’ll stay for a little while, so you can rest. But not for long, intervening with you and Johnny anymore would be overstepping my power as a sire.”

Ten nodded reluctantly, turning on his side to meet Kun’s eyes.

“There’s rules even I must follow,” Kun continued, voiced tinged in a saddened, apologetic manner, “Ancient ones, that breaking would mean sacrilege.”

“But you would break them? If you could?” The words spilled from Ten’s lips on their own, but Ten didn’t take them back. Tears welled in Ten's eyes at just the thought of having to leave Kun's side and Johnny returning. 

Kun squeezed his hand lightly, “I would do anything for you, my dear, had you not been chained to the circumstances under which you came to me.    
  


_ If things were different _ , Ten thought. The tears spilled down his cheeks. This time Kun reached out with his free hand and gently wiped them away. It took over Ten’s mind before he could stop it, thoughts of a world where he had met Kun without Johnny chasing after him. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” Ten sniffled.

“Why do you say that, my dear?” Kun asked, brushing the fringe out of Ten’s eyes. 

“I trust you more than I should,” he hiccuped, “I like you a lot, too.”

“Beings like me are meant to lure people in. It’s only natural that you’re drawn towards me.”

Ten shook his head, “No, no that’s what _ Johnny’s _ like. You’re-you’re different.”

“How are you sure?”

“Because you’ve already lured me in. I’m caught in the trap already. Once Johnny had me in his claws, he tried to kill me. But  _ you _ , you’re still treating me like I mean something.” Ten let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The answer left another unspoken question for Kun,  _ why?  _

_ Why not just drag him out of that closet and right to Johnny? Why not get it over with? _

Ten kept those thoughts to himself. Even if he was dying to know, they would be painful just to speak.

Kun traced his finger along Ten’s hand, “Some things are best left unknown. You should get rest, my dear.”

The other stood, releasing Ten’s hand. Ten wanted to protest, something disheartened and desperate rearing in his chest, but he couldn’t ignore the ever lurking exhaustion that was finally taking over, and instead pulled his own hand in. 

Kun crossed the room and grabbed the old chair near the bookshelf. He lifted it with ease, and set it a foot away from Ten’s bed. 

He sat down, legs crossed, hands folded on his knee. He kept looking at Ten like he was observing him, like he was trying to memorize every detail on Ten’s face, or maybe like Kun would find the remedy to a problem or question he’d been trying to answer for ages. Ten didn’t mind, he never could find it in himself to mind much of what Kun did.

“What are you thinking about?” Ten asked. He spoke slowly, already growing groggy. 

“I’m thinking of you, my dear. Nothing else.” He reached out and softly grazed his thumb over Ten’s cheeks.

When the exhaustion began to settle, it settled quickly, and Ten could feel sleep already fatigue his limbs until it grew difficult to keep his eyes open. 

The room began to dim, and whether that was because Ten was slipping out of consciousness, or if the lights had truly begun to dim was beyond him. 

The darkness rose above him until all Ten could see was the flickering light from the fireplace, the rest of the room cast in shadows. Even Kun’s figure had slipped from sight. 

_ This isn’t goodbye, my love.  _

It was a whisper, one that echoed in the blackness around him, and lulled him into a dreamless dark. 


	2. And I've been waiting for you all this time

_ Come back to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.  _

-

Waking up to that awful hissing noise, Ten thinks, has to be one of the worst ways he’s  _ ever _ woken up. (Second only to that one time his cat decided to jump on his face when he was sleeping.)

He startled awake, scrambling backwards until his back hit the headboard, his heart racing in his chest. 

He searched the room frantically, finding it empty. Kun was gone, his chair back by the bookshelf. The lamps in the room were off, and the door shut, but the fireplace still flickered. 

Ten took a deep breath. The peace he had felt with Kun was long gone, taken with the vampire himself and replaced with dread that made his stomach churn and cut deep into his bones like jagged rocks.

The hissing faded out, and the disturbingly familiar sound of footsteps replaced it. Ten swallowed thickly. 

They were coming from the left of the hall, and they were approaching quickly. He shot out of bed, eyes falling onto the fire poker leaning against a small stack of wood next to the fireplace. 

He rushed over and grabbed the fire poker and then pried the metal screen from off of the fire. He stuck the end of the fire poker into the fire, chewing on his bottom lip as he eyed the doorknob anxiously. 

The footsteps grew louder and louder, and Ten tried to steady his staggered breathing. The footsteps stopped in front of the door, Ten’s heart skipping a beat. 

Ten pulled the fire poker out of the fire and raised it like a baseball bat as the doorknob began to turn. 

Suddenly the doors flew open, and there stood Johnny, brooding as ever, fangs bared, eyes a dark red, and bloodied hands gripping the sides of the doorframe. 

“Oh what the  _ hell _ .” Ten whined, and Johnny lurched at him. They were a few feet apart so Ten managed to sidestep him, and swung the fire poker in his direction. 

Johnny caught the end of it before it hit him, but the hot metal seared into his skin, and Ten could only describe the sound that came from him as a deep growl. 

Ten used that time to slip out of the room, legs and feet flying as he sprinted down the corridor. He rushed to the large doors at the end, swinging them open as fast as he could, a staircase coming into view.

He turned to see Johnny stumbling out of the room, holding his burned hand with the other. They locked eyes, and Ten’s mouth went dry. He frantically shut the doors behind him and sprinted down the stairs. 

The stairs went down another two levels at least, but Ten decided on only one flight, and quickly made his way into the new corridor. There were no lights down the new hall, but on the entire left side of the hall instead of more stone there were arched openings, the bottom half a stone railing. 

The air was cool and Ten could see the forest, the hills, the fading dark blue in the sky to his left, the yellowing skies to the right, everything. He was reminded of the bath with Kun, and his heart ached to be with him again. He regained himself quickly.

_ Live first _ , Ten thought to himself,  _ then you can think about stuff like that. _

Ten thought about jumping, but scrapped that thought quickly as all there was was the floor of the forest. Instead, he eyed the set of large doors at the end of the hall.

He ran down the rest of the corridor, the rough stone flooring cold on his feet. 

Ten had grown so used to finding only darkness behind the doors of the manor that he didn’t completely process the room in front of him until he was a few steps inside. 

It was a cathedral, massive (considering that it was  _ inside _ a manor), and beautiful. The arched roof had to be twenty feet high, and the floor space alone had to be larger than four of the regular manor bedrooms combined. There were gorgeous, intricate stained glass windows along either of the walls, and in the very center, one large stained glass window sat behind the altar and chancel. 

Ten could see the orange hue of sunlight shining through a depiction of an angel in the stained glass. It cast a colorful sliver of light onto the wall behind him. 

The angel had its wings spread behind it, one hand clutching its robes, and the other reaching for the sky. 

_ Something out of reach _ , Ten’s brain supplied,  _ but something in view _ .

There was a faint sound of a door slamming shut, and Ten was off again. Ten found a door to the right side of the cathedral, hidden in shadows. He pulled it open, slipped inside, and promptly shut it behind him. 

Behind the door was another long corridor with doors on either side. 

_ Big surprise _ , Ten thought absentmindedly. He couldn’t hear footsteps anymore, but he didn’t need any added motivation to keep running. He flew down the hall, sucking in sharp breaths. 

He slowed to a pause when the end of the corridor came into view, his chest heaving to catch his breath as he spun around searching for an exit. 

However, a loud thud suddenly echoed through the hall. Ten jerked in that direction, finding that the noise originated from where he had come from. Ten squinted into the darkness. He was just barely able to make out a tall figure standing at the end of the hall, and Ten’s stomach lurched. 

He scrambled to the door in front of him, rushing into whatever room happened to be behind it. He shut the door, swallowing a whine when he found no lock. Ten pressed his back against the door, whispering strings of curses.

_ Johnny saw,  _ thoughts raced through his mind,  _ Johnny knows. _

The entire room was pitch black, only adding to the growing frustration and desperation that was making its way through Ten. 

Slowly, he began to walk across the room, his arms outstretched to prevent himself from running into anything. Creaky wooden planks made up the floors, and the air around him was cold and dry. 

He listened for footsteps as he felt his way around the room, but heard nothing. 

Ten took another step forward, and a much louder creak rang through his ears, but suddenly he could see more of the room, a sliver of light appearing on the floor and wall, the blood draining from his face as he came to the realization that the door was opening behind him. 

He spun around, but the door slammed shut just in time, re-casting him and the room in complete darkness. Everything in his body froze, except for his pounding heart. The creaking of the old wooden floorboards resumed, but Ten wasn’t moving. 

Johnny was in the room with him. 

The floors creaked and Ten took a step back, then another, then again when he heard another creak. 

All of a sudden the creaking stopped, and Ten couldn’t catch the whimper that rose from his throat. Everything was silent, everything dark, he was lost. 

Ten racked his mind for any coherent thought, but there was nothing. He couldn’t tell if his mind was racing so fast he couldn’t grasp anything, or if it was completely blank. 

Another creak sounded, this time a few feet to his right. Ten moved to take a step back, when suddenly something moved in front of him, something big and fast, like a speeding car on a highway, and something sharp brushed against his arm sending him jerking a few steps backward. 

A moment later searing pain flared from where Johnny must have grazed his arm, and Ten’s hand flew to grasp the area, his eyes widening as he felt liquid trickle down his arm and hand. 

Ten could feel small parallel cuts, a scratch, as more blood seeped from the graze. 

_ With his teeth? _ Was all Ten’s mind could supply before he felt Johnny move again, too fast for Ten to process let alone react to as there was another brush of something sharp, this time against his side.

Ten grunted and took more steps back. He felt his side. His shirt was torn open where Johnny had come into contact, and Ten could already feel the dampness of blood underneath his hand, the small wound stinging whenever the cloth of his shirt touched it. 

Ten let out a sob, his feet carrying him backwards until he hit the wall behind him. 

More creaks, and Johnny came again, this time from the right, and the cut going much deeper, the force of it knocking Ten to the left and onto his knees. 

With a shaky hand Ten reached up to where his collarbone was burning, pain traveling all the way down to his chest. Ten carefully followed the scratch mark diagonally from his collarbone to where it ended in the middle of his chest. Like the rest, blood began trickling down his chest. 

“Stop, please..stop.” Ten gasped, his voice small.

There was a laugh, sharp and cruel as it rang out through the room, the echo of it mocking Ten. 

Ten squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the next slice of Johnny’s fangs into his skin, but it never came. Instead, a hand wrapped around his neck, pushing him back against the wall and dragging him up to his feet. 

Ten let out a strangled gasp, his hands flying to the one around his throat. He tried to lift his legs up to kick Johnny, but the latter was one step ahead of him and pinned his thighs down with his own legs. Johnny held Ten’s shoulder back against the wall. Ten could feel Johnny’s breath hot against his cheek, then his jaw, then his upper neck as he leaned in. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, panic flooding through his chest as he writhed and struggled uselessly underneath Johnny.

Ten let out a choked cry, letting go of Johnny’s grip on his neck with one hand to try and push back against Johnny, to no avail. 

Ten struggled to take in a breath, his hand finding purchase on the wall behind him. Except it wasn’t wall, but cloth, thick, velvety cloth that Ten grasped in his fingers. A curtain.

Suddenly Ten remembered something Kun had told him earlier, and he tried to pull that thought to the front of his mind. 

_ Daylight...light..strains our eyes. _

A familiar flood of adrenaline coursed its way through Ten, and he mustered what he could to grab a handful of the cloth. He let go of Johnny’s hand with his other hand and pressed it to Johnny’s face, pushing as hard as he could while pulling on the curtain. 

Johnny snarled, but Ten only pushed harder against his face as the sound of tearing fabric filled his ears. 

_ A little more. _

Johnny was stronger than he was, but all of Ten’s strength was enough to slow him. Both of Ten’s arms burned, and he yelled out. 

Johnny grunted, and just as he released Ten’s throat to instead pull Ten’s hand away from his face, the curtain tore off of the window, and sunlight filtered into the room. Johnny came into view, blood dripping from his mouth, both his hands leaving Ten to shield the light.

Ten’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, but he managed to hold himself up. In a thoughtless, adrenaline filled moment Ten clenched his fist, raised it, and punched Johnny in the face. 

He didn’t even know  _ how _ to punch.

Either way the blow worked fine enough as Johnny stumbled backwards. Ten slipped behind him, gasping in breaths of air, and sprinting out of the room. His legs wobbled under him more than he’d like, and his knuckles stung like a bitch, but he didn’t stop moving, not with Johnny still behind him. 

He staggered to the door just across the hall and wiped some of the blood from the scratch on his arm onto his hand, then opened the door, leaving a bloody print on the door handle. His only hope to stall Johnny was by making it look like he was in a different room. 

He repeated it on every door he walked by as he quickly made his way down the hall,  _ wipe the cut, open the door, keep walking.  _

Finally he reached the very end of the hall. He wiped his bloody hand on the front of his shirt, and opened the door, this time slipping inside. 

Ten was saved from the darkness this time by large windows on the other side of the room. It still wasn’t very bright, however, because outside thick gray clouds had begun to move in, covering the sky and dimming the sunlight. The room was huge, and as Ten looked to his left he saw large shelves filled with books, thousands of them. He supposed he was lucky he wound up in a library rather than another small storage room or bedroom. 

Bookshelves lined all the walls excluding where the windows were. The ceiling was high too, not as tall as the cathedral’s, but had the other bedrooms of the manor beat by far. 

There was one of those ladders on wheels that rest on the bookshelves that Ten had seen in older libraries before. It was placed on the tallest bookshelf that stretched over the wall to his left. There were neat rows of bookshelves standing in the middle of the room. 

There was little time for Ten to spend admiring the room before him, however. It wouldn’t be long until Johnny found him again. 

Ten made his way into the library, scanning the bookshelves, and the walls. The dark wood of the shelves combined with the dimmed gray light flooding in gave the library a darker look. 

Ten traced down the spine of one book with his fingers, the old, cracked leather cover bending under the pressure. 

_ They must be hundreds of years old as well,  _ Ten thought. 

The rows of shelves came to an end, and towards the windows there were multiple desks with chairs, and large couches at either end.

On one desk sat a small stack of books, next to it a few paper letters. There was a letter opener just to the right of the papers, small but sharp, so Ten grabbed it, shoving it in the waistband of his shorts. You know, in case it came down to fighting off Johnny again. 

As he passed through the desks, there was a nagging feeling of familiarity that Ten couldn’t ignore,  déjà vu that sat under the surface of his skin, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

_ Kun _ , he thought, but he wasn’t sure why. 

Ten’s feet moved on their own, taking him to one of the couches near the window. He almost moved to sit down, but distant rumbling tore him from a haze he hadn’t realized he’d fallen under. 

His gaze was drawn up to the window, where droplets of rain started to crash onto the glass. The clouds were darker than before, and thunder rumbled in the distance again. 

Ten pursed his lips, scanning the room. 

_ How was he supposed to fend off Johnny with books? _

He peered at the shelves of books, trying to rack his brain for any way out of this. 

Lightning struck behind him, illuminating the room for a moment. Ten turned to stare out the window, watching as rain crashed down on the forest, thunder reverberating throughout the manor. 

Ten was reminded of the window he had pulled the curtain off of. He turned back to the ladder on the far side of the library, then the bookshelves, his eyes dropping to their base, which he noted weren’t held in place by anything. 

“That couldn’t work, could it?” Ten muttered to himself. 

If this didn’t work he would die. But if there was anything Ten had learned from his time in this manor, it was that whatever seemed expected, was exactly what was  _ not _ going to happen. 

“Fuck it.” Ten pulled at the bandage over his shoulder, clenching his teeth as he peeled it off. 

Ten grimaced, it was just as bloody as he expected it to be, but a little grosser now that he was actually looking at it. He jogged over to the last bookshelf, dropping the bandage onto the floor in front of it. 

After that he sprinted back to the far wall, grabbing onto the ladder, and climbing up. He made sure the ladder was placed in the light coming from the window, and in front of the bookshelves. When you’re running from a vampire, you hide in the light, not the dark. 

He leaned as close to the books as he could, though it’s not like that did much to hide him. He wasn’t even sure if Johnny would go for the bandage rather than him, but he could only hope.

All there was to do was wait, and pray that mother nature was on his side when it came to lighting strike timing. 

He tried to steady his breathing, finding purchase on the ledge of the shelf to stay balanced on the ladder. 

Lightning struck a tree in the distance, followed quickly by booming thunder that Ten could feel. One of his hands came up to lightly massage his temples. The storm was beginning to make his head pound. 

Everytime the wood of the ladder creaked he flinched, his eyes shooting to the library door. The more seconds that passed, the more uneven Ten’s breath grew, his palms sweaty. 

Lightning stuck somewhere out of view, and thunder followed a few seconds after. He winced, his headache growing worse. Storms had never bothered Ten before, but something about this one irritated him, like the buzz of a fly in your room as you tried to sleep.

Suddenly there was a small click, and Ten’s heart skipped a beat as the library door was slowly pushed open. Ten held his breath, pushing himself further back against the bookshelf as Johnny stepped in the room.

By some miracle, Johnny didn’t notice Ten right away, instead he walked further into the library, seemingly headed towards Ten’s bandage. 

Ten sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, anticipation mixing with concentration. His breathing was ragged as his eyes darted from Johnny to the window, and back and forth. 

Johnny disappeared behind the last row of bookshelves, and time seemed to slow. 

Then, lightning struck, flashing the entire room in bright light. Ten pushed himself off the ladder, kicking the top of the bookshelf as he went down. He was just able to pull his feet back under him to land on, but when he hit the ground a sharp pain shot up his leg. 

He grabbed his ankle, teeth and eyes clenched in pain. A heavy thud caused his eyes to fly open, and he looked on as one after another, each bookshelf tipped over, knocking over the next one until it reached that last. Books spilled everywhere. 

As the final bookshelf crashed down, there was no noise, not even a grunt. Ten stilled, waiting for Johnny to push the bookshelf off, or maybe pull himself out, but nothing happened. 

Ten swallowed thickly, pushing himself up onto his feet. He let out a small whine as he tried to put weight on his right foot, a stabbing pain throbbing in his ankle, and his knees gave out. 

Ten puffed in and out jabs of air, moving onto his hands and knees as he crawled over to where Johnny was. 

The wood floor hurt Ten’s knees as he crawled, and his heart skipped a beat when Johnny came into view. Half of his body was underneath the bookshelf, his torso and up sticking out. He was laying face down, unmoving. 

Ten released a shaky breath as he sat back, some feeling of relief flooding into his chest. He scooted over to the wall, and using a ledge of a bookshelf he pulled himself up. He limped across the library, wincing everytime he put a little too much weight on his foot, and the pain in his ankle flared.

He pushed the doors open, and stumbled into the hallway. 

Now that the adrenaline was fading, Ten could feel every one of the injuries decorating his body, his ankle, the scrapes, his neck, and his shoulder. 

With every step he took, something ached or burned, and he gritted his teeth so hard he was worried they might crack. Without the bandage on his shoulder, the bite bled freely, trickling down his arm and chest, and onto his shirt. 

He lived through Johnny, now he needed to find a way to get this bite off him. 

The door to the cathedral was wide open, the light from the windows lighting up the room.

Ten limped down the rest of the hall, trying to focus on anything other than the pain. He used the wall and occasionally door handles to support his weight as he hobbled. 

He finally made it to the cathedral, collapsing in the doorway. He crawled the rest of the way inside, stopping and laying down on the steps that led up to the altar. He took the time to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down. 

He sat up and studied his ankle, which was now red and slightly swollen. Ten huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He turned towards the altar, wincing as lightning struck again, flashing brightly behind the angel in the stained glass window. 

His eyes fell to a large stone bowl that sat on a pedestal at the altar. He hadn’t noticed it before, but before he was still being hunted down by Johnny, and hadn’t paid attention to details. Pulling himself up, he limped over to it. 

It was filled with water, holy water, Ten presumed. He collapsed against it, resting his weight on the rim of the bowl, when suddenly he heard a quiet sizzling sound that lasted for a second. Ten knitted his eyebrows, moving back slightly. He looked around the cathedral, but found nothing. However when he turned back to the bowl, he noticed the water was tinged slightly red. He glanced down at his shoulder where sure enough, blood was seeping out of the bite wound.

A droplet of blood dripped off his collarbone and into the water, however when it came into contact with it, a small sizzling noise sounded, and wisps of a steam-like substance arose. 

Ten stilled for a moment before feeling around for the letter opener in his waistband. He fished it out, and bit down onto his bottom lip as he pricked the tip of his index finger, letting the blood drip into the water. Nothing.

“What..?” Ten dropped the letter opener, and collected some of the blood from the bite onto his finger, then stuck it in the water. 

The sizzling returned, his finger almost hot for a moment before the wisps floated up above the surface. 

_ The venom _ , Ten connected his eyes widening,  _ it’s the venom. _

Ten sat down, his back against the pedestal, as he rested both of his hands on the wound on the juncture of his neck. The light touch alone stung. He leaned his head against the pedestal and gazed up at the ceiling of the cathedral. 

He pressed onto the bite mark with both of his hands. A burning sensation coursed through the juncture of his neck. Ten cried out, his hands faltering. 

_ You’re clever, Ten. You just have to remember it.  _

He drew in a deep breath and pressed down again. 

The wound seared, and it was as if he were being bitten all over again. Ten could feel the very outline of Johnny’s fangs in his skin. As he expected, blood flowed steadily out of the wound, covering his hands and neck, and dripping down the front of his body. 

His hands were shaking by the time he released the wound. He gasped in air as he reached up with his hand, dipping it into the bowl. 

“Shit.” Ten breathed out as he heard the telltale sizzling come from the bowl above him. He pulled his hand down, placing it back onto the bite, and squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed again.

Ten was only able to bite back so many cries as more blood poured out the wound, the stench of iron filling the air, so strong he could almost taste it. 

He held his hands there again, his entire body trembling with the will of it. Everytime his hands would waver he thought of Kun, and he’d find renewed energy. 

Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breathing growing rapid. His eyes watered. He released again, and his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the relief. 

He reached up again, and sobbed out as he felt the blood sizzling off in the water. 

Ten pulled his hand out of the water. He closed his eyes again, trying to steady his breathing as he laid his hands onto his shoulder, but he could already feel himself growing rapidly weaker. 

He started pressing again, groaning out as the burning sensation returned, tears streaming down his cheeks.

His hands were shaking, and he could feel himself growing light-heading, his vision started to blur. Just as the corner of his vision started to darken he lifted his hands again. 

Weakly, he lifted his arm up to the bowl once more, and dipped his hand in. Nothing happened, no sizzle, no heat. 

A guttural moan left Ten’s lips, a feeble celebration of relief. 

He scooped up some more water, and brought it down onto the cut, gripping tightly onto his leg as the last of the venom burned off the wound and out of his body.

With the venom gone, the bite wound would finally begin to heal, though as he looked down at the red that covered his front, he worried the bite wouldn’t be the last of his concerns.

He let his hand drop to his side. His entire body felt weak, like if he tried to move he wouldn’t have the strength for it. 

A strike of lightning lit up the room in colors, shaking thunder following. His head pounded.

The faintness wasn’t going away, and he grew dizzy as he fought to keep his eyes open. 

Ten used the last of his energy to push himself forward, crumpling onto the floor. He turned on his back, ignoring the wetness that seeped into the back of his shirt from the blood that had begun to pool around him.

Everything felt slow, like he had been moving at two times the normal speed his entire life until now, where everything seemed stretched out and leaden. 

His arms fell spread out at his sides as he looked up at the angel in the stained glass window. Her face was downturned, as if she was longing for whatever she reached for. 

Coldness crept its way through Ten’s body as he gazed at the angel. There was something cruel about it, Ten decided, the angel stuck reaching for something so valuable, so important to her, yet always out of reach. 

Lightning flashed behind the window, and suddenly the throbbing in his head grew worse, his vision doubling. His limbs started growing numb, the feeling in his body slowly being leached out of him. 

There was a forceful pulling at his body, no, at his very  _ being _ , as if something was trying to separate his soul from his body. 

His headache was splitting, sharp throbs jabbing in his skull, and Ten felt like sobbing out. 

Lightning flashed once more, bright and overbearing, the angel’s face lighting up, and everything went black.

-

_ Lightning lit up the dark gray sky. Rain crashed down everywhere around him. Mud splashed under his feet as he ran.  _

_ He could see a crowd of people gathered in the town square. Everyone was wearing black hooded robes, no one carried umbrellas.  _

_ His heart was racing as he sprinted towards the square. Thunder rumbled around him. _

_ “Kun!” he shouted as he neared the crowd, “Kun!” _

_ “We will no longer live in fear!” a loud voice bellowed from somewhere in the circle of people. Cheers and hollars erupted. _

_ “Kun!” he called out, breathless. He reached the square, pushing his way through the crowd. The clearing in the middle came into view, and his heart dropped. _

_ One man had a hand raised in a fist as he preached to the crowd. Just behind him, Kun was on his knees, two other cloaked men holding either of Kun’s arms, keeping him in place.  _

_ The preacher turned to Kun, lifting his other hand, which to his horror, held a large wooden stake, “Demons like the one before me do not belong in our world, amongst mankind.” _

_ The cloaked man raised the stake over his head, everyone around him yelling and cheering. _

_ “Stop!” he shouted desperately, sprinting out in front of the Kun, just as the stake was brought down. _

_ “No!” it came from behind him.  _

_ Most in the crowd fell silent, save for a few screams and gasps. The cloaked man’s eyes widened, and he stumbled backwards. _

_ There was a sharp pain in his chest, but he didn’t dare look down.  _

_ “The governor’s son!” Someone cried out, and all of a sudden they started running. Everywhere around him people sprinted away from the scene. Even the man in front of him scrambled away, slipping on the mud as he made his frantic getaway.  _

_ That’s when he looked down at the stake protruding from his chest. He gripped it with shaky hands and pulled it out. Red seeped from the wound. _

_ “Yongqin!” There were hands on his shoulders as his legs gave out. Kun caught him before he could hit the ground.  _

_ “No, no, no,” Kun was above him, his eyes filled with tears, “Yongqin.” _

_ “Kun..” he spoke weakly. Rain fell onto his face. Kun pulled him closer into his chest, shielding him from the droplets.  _

_ Kun’s hand came to rest on the wound in his chest, and he let out a sob, “Please, no. Stay with me, Yongqin.” _

_ “Please don’t cry…” he mustered, which only caused the tears to spill down Kun’s cheeks. He tried to reach up, but he was weak, and his hand barely made it halfway before falling back to the ground.  _

_ Kun seemed to understand, and he grasped the other’s hand with his own, bringing it up to his cheek. He rubbed his thumb along Kun’s cheek, wiping away the tears as they fell.  _

_ “I’m so sorry, my love.” Kun whispered, his voice cracking. _

_ His lips parted in an attempt to speak, but nothing came out. The corners of his vision grew dark. _

_ “Kun,” he gasped quietly, “Kun, I…” _

_ “I’m here, my love. I’m right here.” Droplets fell onto his face again, but this time it wasn’t rain, but Kun’s tears.  _

_ He used the rest of his quickly dwindling energy to grasp onto Kun’s hand. Kun immediately intertwined their fingers.  _

_ “This isn’t goodbye, my love,” Kun brushed the fringe out of his face, “we’ll see each other again.” _

_ He could only stare up at him.  _

_ “Come back to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.” _

_ The darkness grew until it was all he could see, and Kun’s voice faded out until all that remained was the echo of his promise, a vow to last for years to come, through life and death, and life again. _

_ - _

Like a torn out page of a book finally found, everything clicked, the pieces of a century old puzzle fitting together. 

There were images,  _ memories _ , of Kun that came back to Ten in a flood, like a dam bursting. 

Kun smiling, Kun laughing, Kun crying, Kun holding his hand, and resting against him, the first time he laid his eyes on Kun, grinning at him across a table surrounded by officials of an old town he used to call home. 

Sneaking out late at night to walk with Kun along the edge of the forest. 

Tending to the gardens behind Kun’s manor that Ten took upon himself to care for. Falling asleep against Kun as he read in the manor library.

The rumors he heard about Kun, the whispers and glances. The words thrown his way,  _ monster _ ,  _ savage _ ,  _ beast _ . The unknown made people afraid, and fear made people angry. Rumors turned into hatred. Hatred turned into violence. They called him a  _ killer _ .

Conversations of leaving, together. Time running out. Dying in Kun’s arms. 

Lifetimes passing.

The air seemed to return to Ten’s lungs as the world around him slid back into place. His headache was gone, the pulling feeling replaced with wholeness again. His limbs buzzed as the feeling returned to them, and his heart thrummed in his chest. He looked around at the cathedral above him, his eyes falling to the angel. 

He had changed his mind. She wasn’t reaching for something impossible to grasp, but waiting. For how long didn’t matter — no amount of time was too long when waiting for something you loved. 

_ Kun _ , he thought, and it took over his mind like a virus, nothing in his head except  _ Kun, Kun, Kun. _

Ten pushed himself on his side with a grunt, falling onto his stomach. Slowly he reached forward with his arm, sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to pull himself up onto his knees. 

Blood covered his hands, neck, shirt, and now his knees. He took in deep, shaky breaths and he crawled forward. 

His chest buzzed with longing and anticipation as he eyed the cathedral doors. When he reached the steps of the chancel, his arms gave out, too weak to carry him down. 

“Kun!” He called hoarsely, “ _ Kun! _ ”

He squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing onto the last step and pulling himself down. He crumpled onto the cold stone floor, crying out in pain when he hit his ankle against the steps. 

Centuries had passed, yet somehow these moments without Kun felt the longest. 

Trembling arms held him up as he pulled his knees forward. He moved to stand, but his knees wobbled under his weight. 

Suddenly the cathedral doors flew open to reveal Kun, like a phoenix out of ashes, the sun finally rising after a Polar Night.

“Kun.” Ten rasped, warmth spreading through his entire body. He pushed himself up onto his legs without fault.

“Yongqin.” Kun breathed. 

They moved towards one another magnetically, Ten limping on bloody and bruised feet. His ankle seared, but all Ten could see was Kun. This time when Ten’s legs finally gave up on him, Kun was there. 

Ten fell into his arms, and with a hand around Ten’s waist, the other holding his head up, Kun lowered to his knee to support Ten’s torso. 

Kun smiled, tears already filling his eyes, “You came back to me.”

“You waited.” Ten spoke softly, smiling back as he gazed up at the other. 

Kun held his jaw delicately, “Of course I waited, my love.”

Ten slid his hand up Kun’s torso, around the back of his neck, until he landed at his nape. 

They stared at one another for a moment, two worlds merging into one as they had two-hundred years ago. There was a coldness that had sat deep inside Ten, a numbing emptiness that he had never noticed until now, as it was chased away by the newfound warmth spreading throughout him, a euphoria that enveloped him completely.

Kun’s hand grazed over his neck and he looked down, Ten’s appearance not going unnoticed. His lips pursed, and when he brought his hand back up to Ten’s jaw it was covered in blood, “My love, there’s something I have to do.” 

Ten didn’t have to ask. He could feel it as much as Kun could probably hear it, his fading pulse, an unshakable exhaustion seeping into his body. He was dying. 

Ten only nodded.

Kun leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then trailed more down his cheeks, then to his jaw. Ten’s grip on Kun tightened as the sudden need to be closer to the older came over him. At last he pressed his lips against Ten’s, who returned the kiss, lips and bodies molding together as they both melted into the touch. 

“Forgive me, my love.” Kun murmured once he had finally pulled away. He ran his fingers along Ten’s jaw delicately before reaching over and gently taking Ten’s wrist in his hand. 

“Always.” Ten whispered as Kun pulled his wrist to his lips, and sunk his fangs into his skin.

-

Maybe Ten truly had been living his life twice the speed up until now. 

There was a magnificence to the details of life that Ten had never bothered to pay any mind to before, but now that he had returned to Kun, and Kun to him, time flowed how it felt it always should have. Slowly, peacefully, methodically, and Ten found himself falling into a lull. 

He was still adjusting to the fangs, the vision in the dark, and the new hyper-sensitivity of his senses. He had free fallen into foreign terrain, but Kun was at his side this time. 

Ten didn’t mind being cooped up in the manor during the time he was learning the ropes. He spent his days wandering the rest of the manor, his nights out in the gardens, and everything in between with Kun. 

It was almost like meeting up with an old friend, more memories and inside jokes that had faded with time uncovering as you talked. Nothing about Kun, or the manor was new, simply forgotten. 

And time would begin to heal the memories that it once buried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and please leave any feedback you have for me in the comments as I am always trying to improve my writing. 
> 
> And as always thank you to my beta Aj, I couldn't have done this without you.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my beta reader Aj, or lost_inthe_dream here on AO3.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please leave any feedback you have for me in the comments!


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